Unbreakable boy
by xxbeteNOIRE
Summary: It's only comfort coming late.' A little motherson bonding between Cheri and Wolfram since I figure nothing is really known too much about the beautiful boy's childhood and we should have special attention from his mother.


A/N:  
Well, I wrote this because the idea just popped into my head at first. Originally it was Konrad just comforting his brother, but I figured that it would work better with Cheri. I actually like how this turned out and cried during writing it, haha, yes I know I'm lame.  
I hope you enjoy it though.

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Disclaimer: Obviously, I do not own Kyou Kara Maou or we would have actually learned about Wolfram's past and there certianly would have been more Yuuram, haha.

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Sitting with his palms pressed painfully into his covered emerald irises, dainty shoulders continued to shake from pent up sobs while pearly white canines dug so deeply into the flesh of his lower lip that shiny blood was beginning to turn pale, pink lips to a matching color of crimson. The cold stone of the wall and floor sunk through his clothes, a gust of air rushing down through the courtyard and brushing comfortingly through blonde tendrils, attempting to play the part of a comforting mother that had been absent for most of his life. As the saltine tears threatened to escape, his palms pressed harder against his eyes, the pain only making it that more persistent.

"Fuck..." The hoarse voice murmured, echoing through the area as his teeth finally released their prize, blood collecting there before dripping down his chin, looking so shockingly beautiful against his alabaster flesh. "Fuuuck." He repeats, a word that would normally not leave the ever composed Wolfram von Bielefeld's lips, but right now it just seemed to encompass his whole situation right now. A stammering breath echoed through the night again, a pathetic attempt at keeping from sounding upset and once again the palms of his hands were punishing him again before pressing deeply to keep the impudent tears inside despite the fact they so dearly wished to escape.

If one paid close enough attention, they would have been able to hear the loud orchestra playing an upbeat waltz far off in the distance, the place where he should be. The vivid colors of the dresses, the rapid twirling on the dance floor, the loud chattering of gossip had been too suffocating for the pale haired, regal prince and he'd stumbled out of the large oak doors before briskly walking down halls until he arrived in a rather secluded place and allowed his break down to begin. It had been building up for a while, it was only a matter of time before it finally pushed it's way to the surface and here it was, rearing it's ugly head.

No...it wasn't as if something in particular had caused this, it was just the repeat of the mundane hurtful things that happened at every ball and despite the fact it happened almost every time did not make the pain recede. The whispered gossip of how poor, sad and pathetic Wolfram was, how he'd never compare to his brothers, how he was continually denied by the Maou, how his reputation had been sullied behind all repair, how the poor male was nothing but a beautiful face that would suffer endlessly. And suffer he did, he was highly sensitive despite the fact he'd loved to put up a facade, thus he'd stiffly exited the room and ended up alone, cold, and attempting to keep from all the so-called metaphorical wave of emotions to crash and drown him.

"Wolfie...?" A tender voice questioned, a voice which did not sound familiar to him despite the oh-so-familiar nickname. How sad was it that he knew it was his mother speaking just by the nickname she was using, but didn't know it by the tone of her voice? Was this how his mother sounded when she had found something so utterly pathetic on the bottom of her best shoes? If it was, why did it sound so utterly warm and actually cause him to let out a whimper he'd been trying to hold, allowed a few tears to escape, made him feel a little less miserable?

"Oh my poor Wolfie...My poor, dear Wolfie." And soon his mother was kneeling down in that over large dress that showed too much cleavage and was in just the right shade to make her eyes look more innocent then she actually was and the image Wolfram got of her kneeling down in it actually almost made him laugh, but it came out as a rather garbled, choked up pathetic noise.

Warm arms encompased him and he was pulled into her chest, not suffocated for once, and the feeling of her cool black pearls grazed against the side of his temple and he realized their position most have looked as awkward as it felt to him. Lowering his hands to his side and clenching them into a fist, he finally nestled himself against his frame, arms hesitantly wrapping around her, but as soon as they got there with out being pushed away, they clutched for dear life. "Mother...you're getting so dirty, you should go back to the party." He whispered weakly, but despite that his body betrayed him and he clutched closer, face pressing closer against her neck, a choked sob coming from him soon after. "Please go, please, please..." He begged, frail and trembling, so obviously broken, which only made him that much beautiful beneath the gentle moonlight as it highlighted each of his tears, each of which resembled another crack on the heart he so obviously wore on his sleeve despite the fact many people thought otherwise.

"My poor, poor Wolfram." Cheri soothed, voice thick with pent up tears as her fingers made such soft stroking against his back, so scared of her youngest boy breaking clean in two he was in her arms. She'd always known he was the most facturable out of all her boys, which she had only made worse by pampering him, but then again maybe it wasn't the act of pampering that made him that way but the simple fact she had used the various objects as a way of comforting him through motions instead of actually being there when her son was distressed with such emotions, merely allowing him to huddle beneath his covers all alone in the darkness of his room and sort over them himself since she was too busy herself worrying over her other two sons along with her people's sons, uncles, brothers, nephews, cousins, fathers, and yet...she never helped the one who so obviously needed it. It was her fault that her precious baby Wolfram didn't know how to deal with his emotions, didn't know how to express them correctly, didn't know how to feel properly...didn't know that it was alright to feel sadness instead of locking it all up.

Silence had spread over them for a while, both so lost in their own thoughts with just the contact of both of their bodies keeping them warm. Shifting from her crouched position, Cheri moved to sit on the cold stone with her legs folded underneath her and was very surprised for a few minutes when Wolfram actually climbed into her lap to press as closely as possible and her heart broke more because she couldn't remember a time she had done with this with her younger son, but could with the older two. A look of poor misery blossomed on her face and she moved to open her lips to apologize, but was cut off by her own son and the words she heard only made her heart twist more.

"I'm sorry mother, I'm sorry for...for being me." Wolfram shockingly got out, little whimpers between every few of the words as his body shook and he attempted to get that cracked mask back in place. "I'm sorry for not being as great as my brothers, for not being able to control my emotions, for embarrassing my family so horribly by constantly being rejected by Yuuri, I'm sorry." He choked out, his palms going to press against his eyelids again, waiting those damned tears to stop as a mewl of pure agony came from him. "But...I wish, you could just see...me. That any of you could see me and not be so disgusted. that when I'm going through something a little painful that they could try to think about my emotions." He whispered, voice so soft that it was barely audible, as if what he was saying was such a sin.

And Cheri was horrified, clutching her child to her chest and rocking him back and forth in her lap. "I love you Wolfram." She whispered into his wispy, golden tendrils and stroked at his back. "You are not like your brothers, you're my beautiful Wolfram, you're smart and brave and so very, very sweet." She murmured, holding him as tightly as possible as she listened to his little breathy sounds of pain that continued to come through every once and a while. "You're so very sweet and I didn't want to taint your innocence by war, but I think I've made you far worse in the end. I'm sorry, I've made such a broken family. None of us were there for you, my beautiful Wolfram, we left you to grow up alone and we're the only ones to blame...But it doesn't matter because I love you the way you are." She commented, pausing as the sound of the orchestra paused and she realized that the sounds of footsteps were going through the halls, rushed and many and for once Wolfram hadn't noticed because by then the music had started again.

"Thank you...thank you, thank you so much." Wolfram whispered, voice so pained and soft, so jaded and faded that Cheri clung tightly and soon none other then her two other sons were moving around the corner behind the figure of the impressive Yuuri-heika, who had grown since his return, and she shifted so that Wolfram's face was not facing them.

"What's going on?" Yuuri panted out after regaining his composure, both Konrad and Gwendal giving each other worried glances before looking at the sitting figure of their mother with their baby brother clutched like a life line in her arms or perhaps it was the other way around?

"Nothing Heika." Cheri whispered, kissing the top of her son's head and soothing away all the hurt he was feeling by gradually smoothing out the wrinkles in his normally pressed uniform, listening to the soft kittenish mewls still coming from him, the hitched breaths, and pitter-patter of tears that continued to fall down his cheeks. "Just something that should have been done long ago, I'm comforting my son, my beautiful, strong, smart Wolfram who I love so much."

A relieved sob came from the blonde haired boy and he pressed closer, not even caring that the man who denied daily was watching, that the half human brother he'd once sought out from comfort was attempting to hold back tears, or that the half brother who'd judged him so harshly was averting his gaze. He had finally gotten acceptance for being himself, something that everyone in their life should have, which had come to him so delayed, but perhaps that made it all the much more sweeter...after all, better late then never right?

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Reviews plz? 8D


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